


Elven Mischief

by KieraVenic



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Humor, Pranks, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraVenic/pseuds/KieraVenic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra had hoped that the Herald might act as a tempering agent against the force that was Sera. Not all hopes can be fulfilled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elven Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a one word prompt given to me by a friend.
> 
>  **Concilliabule** \- A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot.

They were up to something. There was no doubt about that.

The fact that Sera was involved was enough to tell anyone that trouble was coming. Her impish smile and darting looks… All signs of impending frustration, so far as Cassandra was concerned.

What was more unexpected was the fact that the Herald was with her. In the beginning, Cassandra had hoped that the Inquisitor would work as a tempering force to keep the impish city Elf under control.

Josephine’s first wails of distress, however, crushed her hopes.

Curious heads turned towards the Antivan Ambassador and her guests as they too struck up cries of dismay and shock. The clamor had been enough to even attract Dorian and Solas from the library. The apostate had simply shook his head and returned to his work, but Dorian lounged in the doorway with a smirk as a soaked Josephine stomped up to the Seeker.

“Where is she!?”

“Who?” Cassandra had a feeling she already knew.

Amber eyes darted around the gathered host in the main hall. “Sera! And the Inquisitor for that matter.”

The Seeker exhaled heavily. So she was not wrong about the two being in cahoots. One could dream…

“The Inquisitor?” Dorian laughed. “Now that’s interesting. I knew the girl had some sass in her when we met, but pranks… Interesting indeed.” Long fingers twirled the curl of his mustache and Cassandra resisted the urge to throw him a look. Sera was enough of an influence on Lavellan without the Tevinter helping.

The sound of laughter floated down from the rafters, but when she raised her eyes, the source was gone.

Josephine fussed at her dress. “I was escorting members of Celene’s court to discuss trade, but when I opened the door to my study…” Her voice cut away in a near growl of frustration. “When I get my hands on that Elf… We’ve had to put the talks off for another day. Lady Beaumont was too distressed to continue.”

“What was in that bucket?” Varric asked dubiously.

A sound of hopelessness rose in Josephine’s throat and she dropped her hands from her soaked skirts. “Just water and…” She raised her hand to her nose. “Uch. Vinegar I think.” Nose crinkled, she jerked her face from the sharp scent.

“So… Let me get this straight. She’s putting off important trade negotiations due to wet skirts…?”

“That would seem to be the case,” Cassandra muttered. She ignored the mumbled remark on nobles from Varric. Prissy or no, the nobles favor was what kept them running. They could not afford to harass them and it did not hurt to afford them simple comforts. While frustrating, one day would do them no harm in the long run.

“I had thought when I saw Lady Lavellan with her that it meant Sera would be kept under control… I see I was wrong.” Soaked black curls were pushed back from where they stuck to Josephine’s forehead. “So much for my hopes that the Inquisitor would be a good influence on her.”

The Seeker’s face set. “I will find them.”

But as the day wore on, Cassandra discovered that it was easier said than done. There had been signs of the mischievous pair, but no sighting; at least not on Cassandra’s part.

“Sure, Seeker. They passed through earlier. Scampered up to Sera’s room. Heard them giggling or some non-sense, I don’t know.”

Hazel eyes narrowed. “And?”

Iron Bull raised a brow at her over his mug, finishing his swig. “And then they scampered off. Out the window I think. Damn Elves are too flighty. Hard to get a track of them when they want to be sneaky. You’ve seen the Boss climb trees. Doesn’t even need branches, just works her fingers into the bark grooves and up she goes.”

The sound of her frustration drew a chuckle. She shot a look to the Spirit that lingered curiously in Bull’s shadow. “I suppose asking you would do no good?”

Startled eyes blinked back at her from beneath the low rim if his hat. “A little laughter to ease the hurts. The fall of water to make the lower ones smile. A wobbling desk to fluster and make the followers see he’s human too.”

“Cullen,” Cassandra hissed.

Nervous shifting caught her eye and she hesitated. She was still unnerved by him, despite all of Lavellan and Solas’ assurances that he was safe. Varric’s fondness for “the Kid” did not help either, and yet… The wide lost eyes softened her. “Thank you, Cole. That was more helpful than I was expecting.”

He appeared a little straighter when he nodded hesitantly in reply. Iron Bull glanced back at Cole with a shrug as Cassandra hurried from the Tavern.

By the time she reached Cullen’s office, it was too late.

“This infernal desk…”

She could hear the mutters before she had even entered. Inside, there was no sign of him, however. “Commander?”

A loud crack shattered the room and she flinched as it was followed by a string of swears. Rounding the desk, she found him hunched over his knees, hands clutched to the back of his head.

“Something you need, Seeker?” The words were fairly wheezed out and she had to admire his attempt to keep his voice straight. When he lifted his head, his eyes squinted against the urge to water.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you,” Cassandra started, her voice just the slightest bit softer than her usual commanding tone.

Cullen’s smile was strained. “Quite alright.”

Her eyes swept him dubiously. “If you’re sure… But I see that I am unfortunately too late. Apparently Sera is making rounds.”

“Sera?” 

“The most likely cause of your current predicament.”

With a heavy sigh, Cullen rocked back on his heels. “Why am I not surprised?” One gloved hand reached up to press on his desk surface and Cassandra watched as it rocked. “Do you realize how much this is going to drive me crazy? The shift of papers, books, or even the movement of my arm sends the whole surface wobbling. My letters end up turning out all… squiggly.”

“… Squiggly?”

With a cough, he rose to his feet. The tell tale twitch of his hand towards the back of his neck a dead giveaway of his embarrassed state. “Ah, yes. I mean, it tends to make reports look sloppy.”

He was silent for a moment more before gesturing at the unfortunate furniture. “How? It was fine this morning. If she shaved one of the legs…”

“Oh for Andraste’s… Let me see.”

With a huff, Cassandra moved around to the front and eased herself onto the floor. The leg in question hovered just slightly off the floor. “It’s a tack.”

“A tack…”

“Yes, wedged into the leg. You’ll need pliers. Try the Horse Master.”

“Lovely,” Cullen groaned as she rose to her feet. It was a harmless trick, but one that would leave Cullen pulling his hair out for days until he managed to get his desk level again. The question was, where would they head next? Josephine. Cullen… She pinched the bridge of her noise, frustration rumbling in her throat. “Leliana.”

“… I’m sorry?”

“They’re making rounds among the Advisors. They’re suicidal. If they touch Leliana’s birds…”

She was almost positive Cullen had smiled before turning his head away. “Don’t. Encourage. Them.”

“After this? You really think I would?”

Cassandra shook her head. At this point she had been so continually surprised by members of their Inner Circle that she would not put it past the Commander. If one of them thought luring him into their plots would distract him from his lyrium sickness, she did not doubt that they would try.

Curious eyes followed her as she trotted along the ramparts, making her way to the rotunda off the main hall.

She had hardly stepped into the room when a voice caught her off guard.

“Already gone, I’m afraid.”

Why was she not surprised? With a deep breath, she turned her gaze on Solas. The Mage had not even glanced up from the notes he was writing. “You saw them?”

“More heard than saw. Sera is not so discrete as she likes to think. They were in the rookery I believe. I had called up to them, hoping that the Inquisitor would be wise enough to simply turn them in. I do believe her reply was, ‘run!’”

It was too much. Cassandra scoffed with disgust. “Did you really think they would turn themselves in? On her own the Inquisitor might be of a nobler mindset, but with Sera?”

The twitch of Solas’ lips said he did not seem to mind the sudden impishness; that perhaps he enjoyed it. The more romantic side of her found it endearing that he would secretly approve of Lavellan’s mischief. She shoved it down.

_No. Don’t you dare start pairing the Inquisition up._

She cleared her throat and forcibly redirected her thoughts. “You wouldn’t have happened to have heard which way they went?”

“Well, they did not come down the stairs. I would assume then that they left through the door for the ramparts.”

Her eyes narrowed. She was just on the ramparts. Fingers curled against the urge to shake something. “My thanks.”

The responding bob of his head was missed as she spun on her heel and hurried from the room. If they had given up on Leliana for now then that left the Inner Circle. That or…

They better not even dare…

Cassandra made a bee line straight for her room. Under the edge she could see the flicker of candle light. Hand on the knob, she heard the scramble of feet and a flurry of laughter. Braced for the worst, she tore open her door.

“If you two did something to my bedroom I am going to—”

A snap of a string cut her short. Feather light touches danced on her hair and she froze, shoulders inching up. That it. They put spiders in my hair. They’re dead. They are both dead.

Velvet red traced along her cheek and she started. No, not spiders, but instead—

“Rose petals?”

Wide eyed, she eyes danced over her room. A mass of rose petals had been dumped on her from an impromptu cloth hammock, and not just her. Petals dusted nearly every surface of her room from her bed, to her desk, and her floor. An entire garden must have been plucked to gather so many. Even her precious bookshelves were not untouched.

To top it off, it seemed Lavellan had managed to procure scented candles from one of the merchants. Tiny tea lights flickered on stones gathered from the garden. At least the pair had been considerate enough not to let them burn her desk.

But their overpowering scent further perfumed the room until she was positive that everything she owned would smell like roses for a week. She tugged open the drawers of her bureau to find that, sure enough, petals were scattered onto and into every piece of clothing she owned. 

The sound of her frustration echoed out over the courtyard.

* * *

It had taken the better part of the morning to get such exquisite seats, but Sera would not miss it for the world. It had taken some work to clamber up the drapery without being seen by the early morning servants that prepared the tables for their guests.  
Scooting along the rafters, Taryn Lavellan eased herself down beside Sera. “Are you sure we should just leave him alone down there to fend for himself…?”

The archer gave an uncaring snort. “He’s sturdy. He’s survived her wrath before. Besides! He knew what he was getting into.”

“Maybe…”

But there was no time to give into doubts. At that moment the doors of the main hall were thrust open. The morning light perfectly silhouetted Cassandra Pentagast in all her fury. 

“You,” she hissed.

Seated at the table before the fire, Varric’s head shot up in alarm. “Oh shit.”

A clump of binded pages was shaken inches from his face. “Did you do this!? I recognize this handwriting. I do not believe Sera capable of doing a perfect rendition of your hand.”

“I—uh…”

“You wrote smut about me!?”

The near shriek of her voice drew more than one set of eyes as the women and men sweeping the floors and wiping off the tables slowed in their work to watch the sudden encounter.

“Smut? Andraste’s panties, no! You seriously need to look at a dictionary. The Inquisitor wasn’t kidding when she said you think that fluff that I write is dirty…”

The smack of the pages as they were thrown down on the table made Varric wisely rise out of his chair. 

“That’s not the point! You wrote me in one of your dirty novels!?”

“Well you seemed so thrilled with my other work I figured you might not mi—”

“You paired me with Cullen!”

Midstep, Cullen froze in the entryway that led to the War Council chambers. The expression on his face had Sera stuffing her fist into her mouth to smother her laughter. Her feet kicked into the open air with uncontainable glee.

“What? That’s the issue? You don’t like Cullen? That makes it complicated, but if you want I can always change it. What about Iron Bull? Didn’t I hear you the other day trying to encou—”

“You heard nothing!”

Taryn felt a pang of pity as Cullen looked between the two and shifted, as though unsure if he should break up what appeared to be impending violence or just run.

With a heavy sigh, Varric reached for the discarded writing. There was a crinkling about his eyes that said he was enjoying this far more than expected. “Alright, alright. Well if it bothers you that much I can fix it. If Cullen or Bull won’t do there’s always Blackwall or Solas. Dorian I think would disapprove.”

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Cole?”

There was the barest of twitches. It was the only warning he had. With a yelp, Varric took off with Cassandra on his heels, hand on the hilt of her sword.

Far above, Sera let out a whoop. “Run, Shorty! RUN!”

“I knew I should never have helped you!”

Up in the rafters, Sera rocked back with a cackle. Turning, she flashed a grin at her partner in crime. “So… Worth it, yeah?”

Taryn smiled down at the curious gathering below, as the heavy air around them began to lift. “Absolutely.”


End file.
